Rules of Survival (Private)

Ryan may be sort of heavy, and big, and his voice ridiculously deep for a kid of his age, but he chatted like a preppy school girl. Or a gay guy. Whichever floats your boat.

Frank wasn't entirely in the mood for talking, as he was most of these days, so he just nodded and smiled politely as Ryan proceeded to tell him about this wicked ##### Algorithm that he's been working on in Math class lately and that he was actually starting to learn something. It wasn't math. This made Frank smile extra wide. Though, he took a moment to look around at all the other students walking him, and he spotted the one and only Chris Hemmington. He never really talked to Chris, or was around him, really, but he knew to stay away from him. He knew this guy was an ###, and even though Frank got ####y once in awhile, he had enough sense to avoid guys like that. Especially Chris. Chris in particular.

He turned back to Ryan and continued to nod and smile as he chatted more, Ryan apparently not acknowledging the fact that Frank looked away at all.

One more time, for some stupid. ###. reason., Frank turned to look back at Chris. However, when he looked this time, all he saw was Chris's neck and the side of his head as the other teen bashed shoulders with him. Unable to control himself, Frankie whimpered out loud at the blossom of pain that had burst and bloomed in his shoulder. Ryan glanced at Frank, then Chris, and was about to bark something vile, but the kid was gone. Like a ghost. Or a skincrawler. Frankie shivered at his thought and looked up at Ryan, his normal almond eyes the size of baseballs. "Just let him go. I didn't even hurt that much, the little ####..."

He lied.

~

After Ryan had walked him home, Frank sat by himself in his room. Alone. He could have sat in any room of the house he wanted, it's not like anyone else was home. He just felt much more comfortable in his room, wrapped up in his childhood blanket and laying on his bed, thinking about the past. He wanted to take Ryan's offer to come over to his house, but he had kindly declined. "We're having...uh, family night," Frank lied, his tall-tale showing red on his face.

He wasn't sure why he rejected Ryan. He just did. Though, it probably would have been a better idea to go with him. Now he sat by himself. Like he always did. Sometimes the loneliness had its perks.

But that was rare.

He had been home for hours.

All his homework done.

Alone.

Frank's skin got that itchy feeling again. The feeling of wanting to be some where else, doing something else, with anyone else, really. He tried to ignore his feelings, which normally doesn't turn out well. He layed on his bed, his eyes closed, trying to ignore his urges.

It failed.

Frank shot up from his head and quickly stepped into his shoes. He grabbed his jacket, the worn leather smooth beneath his fingers. He slung it on as he strode out of his room and out the front door.

He didn't know why he did that. It was dark, he was by himself, and he was a small fourteen-year-old. But nonetheless, he drew his jacket closer to himself and continued to walk aimlessly in the night, completely absent of destination.

Rules of Survival (Private)

[Pshe my ###, Mello. It's like you were at an RP training camp the entire time. Jesus.]

After finishing up the song he was playing for his mother, Chris looked up from the keys before him towards the woman. "Can I be done now?" he asked, his voice tired.

She scolded him for talking to her with such an attitude, but he wasn't listening. He was packing up his sheet music and grabbing his backpack, agreeing with everything that she was saying, and left the studio for his bedroom. He grabbed his phone from the charger and locked his bedroom door, then unlocked the window. His room was on the second floor, but it wasn't a bad drop since the roof was right outside his window.

He pulled a pair of tennis shoes and a blue sweatshirt and pulled himself out the window and then jumped down to the ground. It hurt the first couple of times, but not it was better. It didn't feel like his legs were shattering anymore.

Chris was tired of being home again and needed something to do, so he started walking down the street. It might have been dark and he might have been young, but he didn't care. It's not like he was going to get kidnapped or something. Those types of things only happened in movies.

He shoved his hands into his sweatshirt's pocket after pulling the hood over his hair, keeping the cold out. He'd look at his phone, but he didn't want to have to deal with anyone from school texting him. He just wanted to be out in the night. He wanted to be alone.

Rules of Survival (Private)

[RP training camp should exist for people who write one sentence at a time and call themselves RPers. (◡‿◡✿) xD]

Frank blinked a few times before gazing at his dark surroundings intently. His eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness of the night, and he could now see vague shape of houses, cars, trees, ect.

The only sources of light were the soft glows peaking from behind house's windows and the fuzzy orange streetlights. He wondered briefly why streetlights couldn't be a different color instead. Like, blue, or something. Blue was a good color, right? One of his favorite colors were blue. Blue is the color of the sky. And the ocean. And blueberries. And Ryan's eyes. And mutant cows--

Frank was quickly shocked out of his thougths when he saw a pole coming right at his face. A surprised noise choked its way out of his throat and he shuffled quickly away from the metal object. He blinked rapidly a few times before looking upward and realizing the pole was a streetlight. He wriggled his nose at the sight, like one would if they smelled something horrible, like a rotting corpse or something. He was about to run into that streetlight. That would not have been good. Very painful.

Maybe thinking about streetlights drew him to a streetlight? It confused him. He wasn't even aware that he was walking toward a streetlight...

Wait.

If he didn't know he was walking toward the light, then what if he didn't know where he was walking at all?

Frank's heart became even heavier than earlier in his chest. What if he was lost? The combination of the chill night air and the idea of being lost made Frank shiver violently, despite his warm jacket wrapped tightly around him. Frank looked around once more, and he slowly realized that he was at the mouth of a large neighborhood that he didn't recognize. He squinted at the front houses for a long while before moving his gaze to the ground. He looked at the name of the sign, and tried to think if he knew anyone that lived there.

No one came to mind.

He stood there for moments thinking so hard that his head hurt, a thoughtful expression on his face, but he still couldn't think...

Rules of Survival (Private)

[It should. Like, for real. It's ridiculous how many roleplayers on here suck. I hate it. xD & thank you. I like to think Chris is one of my more successful jerks. xD]

Chris had shoved his ear-buds in and started blasting the most recent album he downloaded from iTunes. He liked a lot of different music, basically anything except country and pop, and beat his thumb against his leg as he walked.

It was dark outside, but the streetlights were casting a glow against the houses around him and then on the ground. Sometimes Chris thought that the night was the best time to walk around town. It was easier to think when there weren't objects occupying your mind when you saw them and you could just clear your mind with the darkness. But it also brought up all the terrors one can think of while walking alone: will I die tonight? Was that a shadow or a ghost? Did I just feel something? Chris didn't normally have an overactive imagination, but sometimes the world around him changed everything in something evil.

Especially at night.

He wasn't scared of the dark. Hell, Chris Hemmington wasn't scared of anything. Okay, he was scared of failing out of school, but that never happened, even with the stupidest of people. He'd be fine,. Sometimes he was scared of other things, but he never talked about them to anyone. He didn't even really think about them.

Namely, the fact that he was gay.

He was scared of people finding out, scared about people labeling him as a freak. He was Chris Hemmington. The Chris Hemmington. He couldn't be a freak.

That would completely ruin his perfect reputation as town ###hole and leader of the class.

Okay, he might not have been a leader, but he was definitely an ###hole.

Chris switched songs quickly, hearing one of the songs he hadn't listened to yet. He would do that when painted this weekend. He didn't like to spend his time alone thinking about new music, trying to listen to the beat and the lyrics. There was time elsewhere for that.

But that time wasn't now, so he skipped the next two tracks, shoved his hands back into his pocket, and continued walking through the darkness.

Rules of Survival (Private)

Frank had stood and thought for a very long time before the coldness of the night began to gnaw through his jacket and snap him out of his thoughts. He shuddered slightly as he realized that he had been standing out in the open all this time, and at the fact that he had zoned out for so long. He shivered hard and drew this gaze away from the ground for the first time in several minutes.

He checked the perimeter once more. His eyes burned slightly as they adjusted to the light casted by the streetlights, the shine of the moon and stars, and even the sudden, blinding brightness of the overhead lights of a passing car. Nothing seemed different, or out of place, really. He was still standing at the dark mouth of the neighborhood, the night was still pitch black, and he was still gazing like he had some sort of mental problem.

Which was very likely.

Lovely, right?

As Frank wrapped his arms around himself, he pondered venturing into the unknown territory of the neighborhood just for the hell of it. He was bored and it would make for a good story later. What harm could there really be in being a little curious?...But what if someone saw him? What if they thought he was some sort of "suspicious character"? Frank wasn't exactly rough-looking, but it's not like he was exactly a perfect-looking guy, either.

He was sure that that was why his teachers liked him so much. He looked rough around the edges, but he was actually a sweet guy. Or that's what he liked to think, anyway. He could be completely wrong and just be scaring the #### out of all his teachers without knowing it.

Though...What if someone saw him, and they wanted to talk to his parents? He shuddered even harder than before at the thought of someone finding out. He knew what would happen to him, and it deeply disturbed him. He would rather not think about it.

Frank bit his lower lip and peered cautiously at the opening. It was looking very tempting, and the urge to enter was becoming more and more demanding.

However.

Frank did this...thing.

It's hard to explain.

When he would make a decision, it seems like he will do the exact opposite. Every time. Always.

For example.

If there was a red and blue popsicle, and he wanted the blue one, his mind would do something funky and make him grab the red one.

Just to give a simple explanation.

Now, you may be asking, "What does his freaky mind habits have to do with anything?"

Everything.

Frank dropped his arms and blinked slowly while he decided...

It was dark.

It was cold.

He was alone.

"I could totally go home and call Jared. Maybe crash with him. I should do that."

He made a decision.

He was going to go back home and then call Jared.

And what did his stupid a## do?

Despite all the reasons why he shouldn't, Frank walked into the unknown abyss of the neighborhood.

Rules of Survival (Private)

Chris liked being alone, not lonely. But walking down the deserted streets of his lame ### neighborhood, he was feeling lonely. He kept his head down and hood up, ever couple of songs skipping the next few, and then walking again with his hands in his pockets, eyes casting over each shadow the streetlights pitted against the walls of each house he passed.

It wasn't easy to scare Chris, but he was timid about a lot of things. He didn't like eating food unless he knew exactly what it was, he didn't like listening to music unless he heard the artist before (unless of course he was forced onto him), and he didn't like walking alone in the dark listening to creepy ### metal music that he would enjoy during any other scenario.

Chris was one for doing things that made him initially uncomfortable. He went to a music festival the previous summer and went into the mosh pit, even though ever fiber of his being was telling him not to. It didn't end up bad or anything, Chris was fine. If anything he was more confident in himself, and confidence was one thing that Chris Hemmington was in abundance of.

No, Chris wasn't scared. He was never scared. Just... timid. More cautious. He made sure he knew about things before venturing into them. He was prepared.

Chris liked to be prepared.

It was something that might have bugged his parents, maybe even his friends, if he was any more obsessed than he was with knowing things. They would think he was some kind of stalker, which is the one thing that Chris was not. He wouldn't get close to going that far, following someone as if his life depended on it. That was desperate, and Chris Hemmington was not desperate.

A song with a strong bass line started to play and Chris quickly changed it, not liking the way it made the moment feel. He had finished the album, so he went to his song list and hit random, shoving the iPod back into his pocket.

He wears his heart safety-pinned to his backpack
His backpack is all that he knows

He thought for a moment about the song's significance and then kept walking, not wanting to dwell on song lyrics and compare them to his life. That was preposterous.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw something move. A shadow of a person, just the twitch of a light switch. He dodged down to the car closest to him and watched the other side of the road as someone walked in the darkness. He couldn't tell who it was, but why did he care? And why was he hiding?

That's right: Chris was timid. He was... cautious.

He watched this shadow, this black abstract, as it walked along the sidewalk. He need not know their reason for being out, but he was curious. Cautious and curious, Chris was. He leaned around the car, moving to see better as the person continued on.

Now Chris was unprepared. He didn't know this, he didn't know the reason this person was out. He was curious, curious and cautious. He lowered himself to the ground and crawled towards the front of the car, staring at the walking figure.